


Mercy

by theclockiscomplete



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Reunion Fic, slight angst, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:31:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5974137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclockiscomplete/pseuds/theclockiscomplete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's had enough of thinking she heard his voice, of waking up to everything looking the same when it's far from it. She's had it with mourning someone who is still alive. Post Hell Bent, whouffaldi reunion fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> I did not edit this. I wrote it and went to bed. I apologize in advance for inconsistencies and the occasional missed quotation mark. I just can't quit these stupid space dorks.

She lasted three months before giving in. Ashildr watched her from her spot in the copilot’s chair, arms folded and eyebrow up as Clara continued to talk about endings, proper goodbyes, and the knowledge that saying goodbye was harder when both of you were still alive. Or frozen. Or whatever she was-- she didn’t think about that too much. She paced the TARDIS floor, glancing occasionally at the readout screen and chewing her nail. She couldn’t actually break the skin and there was no pain, but she did it anyway. Old habits. 

  


“I just think that is I was meant to move on, I’d stop turning to tell him about our adventures,” Clara said. “I’d stop looking for him mucking about on his guitar in...I don’t know, twelfth century Cambodia. I’d quit expecting…” she gazed at her hand and flexed her fingers, brows furrowed. “I miss him,” she said finally. 

  


“Really.”

  


Clara half-glared at her before turning back to the console. “All of this, and he can’t even remember me.” She said it more to herself, but she saw Ashildr roll her eyes out of the corner of her eye anyway. 

  


“Listen, I personally can’t remember how it feels to move on from losing someone, but my library is just down the hall if you need the reminder of why you did this.”

  


Clara sighed and looked down at the console. “Ashildr, don’t take this the wrong way, but I have no intention of living long enough to forget a single thing.” Ashildr’s facial expression said  _ that’s fair. _ “Now,” Clara said, tripping the controls and levers before her. “Where shall I drop you off?”

  


Ashildr thought a moment before smiling and spreading her hands. “Anywhere but Earth.”

  
**************************************************************

The girl called Clara was a constant itch in the back of the Doctor’s mind. Like any incessance, he was able to tune it out for the most part, but the most random of things would set the itch off again. Bobby pins left on the console. An ipod with songs he could not connotate, the strange sensation of knowing them in a vacuum. It was more persistent now than ever though, with a very specific augmented human at his side, where she had been for the last several hours.

  


“Well Doctor, I think that’s it for the plasma worms.” Saibra stripped her gloves off and clapped him on the arm, startling him from his thoughts.

  


“Yes,” he said. “Of course. Just a matter of feeding rituals, is all. Dangle an igneous rock in front of them and there you have it.”

  


Saibra smiled and shouldered her bag. “Thanks for the help, Doctor. And give my best to Clara.” She stepped into the transport pod and the door slid shut before he could form the words to ask what she was like. He had a list in the inside pocket of his velvet coat, and he added to it whenever he relearned something about her. He withdrew the paper and the tiny pencil he kept beside it and added an extra line under the words “friends with everyone.” He sighed and tucked it back before turning back to his TARDIS and letting himself inside. He paused at the door and frowned at the small figure seated in his copilot’s chair, legs crossed like she belonged there. 

  


“Hello,” he said uncertainly. “Can I help you? If you’re hiding from the plasma worms, they’re all gone now.” He gestured to the door. The woman propped her chin in her hand and smiled at him.

  


“Small game for you,” she said.

  


“Ah,” said the Doctor with a smile. “You know me.”

  


The woman gave a short laugh, eyes bright. “You could definitely say that.”

  


“Well, I’m terrible with faces so you’ll have to tell me how. And--” he paused, finger in the air. “Did you know Clara as well by any chance?” He missed the change in Clara’s expression, rummaging back in his breast pocket for the paper and pencil. “I had a thing happen. To my head. A bad thing, but important.” He waved a hand. “Not important. I forgot her, but everyone who knows me knows her and I’m trying to find her again. I have a list of...details I’ve gathered from people. See?” he held it out and the woman took it with a shaky hand.

  


She cleared her throat and swiped at her eyes before leaning forward to look at it. “Small,” she read. 

  


He nodded. “That was one of the consistent details,” he said. 

  


“Brown hair-- with a question mark.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Warm...oh hell, forget it. I can’t keep doing this.” She tossed the paper to the floor, ignoring the mixture of confusion and defensiveness that clouded his face. “Doctor, it’s me.” 

  


The Doctor blinked a couple of times and shook his head. “I’m terribly sorry,” he said, leaning forward to pick up the list. “I told you, I’m not good with the faces. Clara was always on about it, I think--”

  


She reached for his arm when he leaned past her. “Doctor,” she said more forcefully. “It’s me. Clara.” He paused, bent so that they were eye level. His face was a mixture of emotions; she could practically hear him trying to decide if she was lying or not, and if he would be able to tell. Damn that neuroblocker straight to hell. “Doctor please,” she whispered. She moved her hand down to grasp his fingers, and it happened. He froze as soon as they touched, and his face morphed from confusion to recognition to awe before his legs gave out and he tumbled to the ground, taking Clara with him with a yelp. They wound up on the console floor, with her supporting herself on his chest with her free hand and trying to disentangle their legs. She blew her hair out of her face and grinned down at him. “Hiya.”

  


His free hand came to rest on her cheek and he looked for all the world like a man seeing for the first time as he said her name for the first time in entirely too long. “Clara,” he breathed. “My Clara. Clara, Clara, oh Clara. I…” he fumbled for words, jaw slack and eyes wide. Clara took pity on him and leaned down to kiss him soundly on the mouth. They let go of each other’s hands to grip each other closer; Clara wound her fingers in the curls behind his head and he crushed her body to him, the groan that escaped him full of a desperate joy that no language invented could define. Here, at last, was home.

*********************************************************

They sat in his wingbacked chair, her body curled in his lap and her head resting on his shoulder. Two pieces of a puzzle. They talked and laughed for hours, and never once broke physical contact. 

  


“You had a date night that lasted twenty-four  _ years? _ I can’t get you to be still for twenty-four seconds-- you’re like a child!”

  


“Rich words from the girl who stole an entire galaxy and all seven of its rulers wives!”

  


“Learned from the best. Besides. The moon had already been done.”

  


“Lost, I tell you. The other stories were just rumors.”

  


***********************************************************

Eventually, their chatter died down and a palpable discomfort of the thing they were avoiding filled the silence.

  


“I can’t stay,” Clara said finally, stroking the lapel of his coat.

  


“I know.” His voice was hoarse. “The Time Lords are still looking for you, and this is the one place they will never, ever stop searching. Now listen. The neural blocker--”

  


“Will go back into effect as soon as we aren’t touching anymore, yes,” Clara finished. He looked for a moment like he might be surprised, and then visibly dismissed the expression.

  


“Clever girl.” He kissed the top of her head. She smiled sadly.

  


“I’ll come visit you again,” she said. When he didn’t reply, she looked up at his face. She expected sadness, a reprimand. Resignation. But his eyes were bright and he was grinning from ear to ear.

  


“Yeah?” he said.

  


She smiled back in relief. “Of course, you daft old man. We just have to keep it quiet. No galaxy quests or planet saving. Just talking and coffee.”

  


“Talking and coffee,” he mused. He quirked an eyebrow at her. “A tiny planet?” he asked.

  


Clara laughed outright. It felt good. It felt overdue, and earned. “We’ll see,” she said.

  


“Yes boss.”

*************************************

He walked her to the door, hand in hand. They lingered for a long moment, and then Clara leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I left coordinates for you somewhere,” she said. “We’ll meet again when you’ve found them.”   
  
“I’ll wear my best suit,” he said solemnly, and then they both smiled.

“Goodbye for now, Doctor.”

“Goodbye, Clara Oswald.” She stepped out the door, and then with a sense of finality and a moment of hesitation, they let go. The Doctor’s face grew distant, and when he focused back on her, his expression was one of polite interest. “Can I help you?” he asked. Clara looked left and right.

  


“Are the plasma worms gone?” she asked.

  


“Oh yes,” he assured her. “They’re gone. It’s perfectly safe out there. You’re all very welcome, and have a nice day.” He waved and shut the door. Clara laid a hand on the blue wood and smiled as it dematerialized beneath her.

  


“I think I already did,” she said to the air. 


End file.
